


promises

by seiseijoh



Series: bound and bruised [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Ennotana - Freeform, Bruises, Choking, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom!Yahaba, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Mild Painplay, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sub!Kyoutani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiseijoh/pseuds/seiseijoh
Summary: Yahaba returns home after a week away and boy, does he have plans for his boyfriend
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: bound and bruised [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659802
Comments: 17
Kudos: 359





	promises

**Author's Note:**

> you know how i said in the last one that this is the only dynamic for kyouhaba that i'll ever write? i've made it a series now so if y'all are into this, get hyped lmao
> 
> this is a direct sequel to talk to me, so i really do recommend reading that first if you haven't. its more kyouhaba d/s smut so what are you waiting for 
> 
> also this fic isn't beta'd and despite editing this numerous times i'm sure i'll have messed up the tense and other stuff somewhere so like, be kind y'all

Yahaba’s not sure he’s ever missed someone as much as he’s missed Kyoutani this past week.

He’s sure they’ll get used to it eventually, as they get older and time apart becomes more common – and he can’t pretend he doesn’t feel a little thrill at the thought of being with Kyoutani for all the years to come. But as it stands, they haven’t spent more than a weekend apart since they met in high school, and a week feels nothing short of torture.

The first three days were almost tolerable, even if he was only able to call Kyoutani once and talk for barely five minutes. But then he finally had the chance to call again, and this time Kyoutani was pissy and snappish and frustrated – and _frustrated_ – and it all just devolved from there.

It was fantastic, and Yahaba couldn’t wait to repeat the experience – except he was then not allowed a single second to himself for the rest of his trip. His family made sure he knew just how much they’d missed him, and while he loved seeing them and spending time with them, he had a needy bitch of a boyfriend who was just _waiting_ for him to whisper some filth into his ear. At bare minimum, he had some utterly indecent pictures of said boyfriend he would have loved to take some time to properly enjoy.

But instead, all he was able to do was text Kyoutani a few times, nothing more than a quick ‘hope everything’s alright, I miss you’ before he was dragged away by some sibling or cousin, and sharing a room with his brother started to feel almost like a punishment.

But as hard as they were, the days passed, and then Yahaba’s on a train home with excitement building in his chest. He texted Kyoutani the whole ride, now that he was finally able to without a small child or snooping parent peering over his shoulder. Kyoutani said he missed him, which Yahaba immediately screenshotted in case he ever tries to backtrack and say he never cared that much. He offered to come meet Yahaba at the station, but said he’d need to put pants on, and Yahaba very much liked the idea of Kyoutani without pants. It only takes a few minutes to walk from the station to the apartment; a few minutes he’s happy to wait if it means the first thing he sees upon coming home is his boyfriend without pants.

The only thought in Yahaba’s mind as he walks home as fast as possible is that Kyoutani not wearing pants means their housemates aren’t home, because even though Tanaka is a shameless whore who walks around the apartment in nothing but a loose excuse for underwear regardless of who’s around, Kyoutani is not. And if their housemates aren’t home, that means it’ll be just himself and Kyoutani, and Yahaba is quite the fan of that arrangement.

He nearly drops the keys as he hurriedly fishes them out of his bag and jams them into the lock. It takes a few seconds of furiously shaking the stuck key before he realises he’s turning it the wrong way, and then a blissfully short moment to actually open the door and stumble into the apartment.

“Kentarou?” he calls immediately, his voice pitching higher than he intends.

He kicks off his shoes and drops his bags unceremoniously – he’ll deal with them later. Much later. He makes his way into the apartment, more than a little concerned at not hearing anyone moving around or calling back. But then he steps into the living room, and stops dead.

“Hey,” Kyoutani mutters.

He’s curled up in the corner of the couch, bare legs tucked underneath him, a black oversized hoodie swallowing his frame. Yahaba recognises it immediately – he spent a lot of time convincing Kyoutani to buy it a few months ago, but then it’d just been shoved to the back of a drawer, presumably to never be worn. Kyoutani shifts a little, and Yahaba can see the slightest peek of his boxer briefs hugging the curve of his ass, but he’s pretty sure that’s the only other thing he’s wearing, and he won’t lie – he’s a _big_ fan.

Kyoutani has the hood pulled up over his head and when he looks up to meet Yahaba’s eye, his face is flushed. Yahaba swallows.

“Hey,” he replies, a little in awe. He’d been sure the oversized look would be great on his boyfriend, but he hadn’t quite managed to envision _how_ great.

Kyoutani looks away, his face reddening even more. He toys with the strings of the hoodie, twisting them around each other as he mumbles, “I should have come to meet you at the station.”

“No, you absolutely should not have,” Yahaba says and closes the gap between them.

He pushes Kyoutani back into the couch and climbs onto his lap, kissing him before he’s even halfway settled. Kyoutani makes a tiny sound of surprise, eyes wide for a split second before they close and he wraps his hands tightly in Yahaba’s t-shirt. It’s a long kiss, a week of separation and tension poured into it, and when Yahaba finally pulls away, his chest is tight and he can barely breathe.

He locks eyes with Kyoutani – half-lidded gaze staring up at him with hunger, lips parted. In a split-second the other’s expression twists into a scowl, the bridge of his nose creasing as he glares at him suspiciously.

“What are you looking at?” he snaps, but the heat in his voice is less anger and more annoyance at the interruption.

Yahaba laughs and presses a kiss to the scrunch of his nose.

“You are fucking beautiful, Kentarou, and I missed you.”

“And you’re a fucking dumbass,” Kyoutani mutters.

Yahaba cups the other’s face and smirks. He knows Kyoutani’s been _waiting_ for it, and _he’s_ been waiting for it, and it’s an easy shift from a soft smile to an even, measured, “Tell me you missed me.”

Kyoutani reacts instantly, tipping his head up a fraction into Yahaba’s hands, relaxing into him for a second where Yahaba thinks he might actually do it. But then he grins and says, “No.”

“Oh?”

With a raised eyebrow, Yahaba runs his hands through Kyoutani’s hair, pushing back the hood. When he slides his hands down to his neck, he feels what he was hoping for, and pulls aside the collar of the hoodie to reveal the black choker sitting snug against his skin. He hooks a finger into the silver ring at the front and tugs – harder than Kyoutani must have been expecting, as he jerks forward and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Would you like to try again? Tell me you missed me.”

He can see it’s affecting Kyoutani in the way his smirk wavers a little and his chin lifts higher for better access, the way he pulls even harder on Yahaba’s shirt. But even though it’s shaky, the smile stays, and he replies, “And what if I don’t?”

Yahaba sits up straighter, pulling Kyoutani with him by the choker.

“Well,” he starts, but doesn’t get the chance to finish – the front door slams open with such force it’s a surprise the whole building doesn’t come down around them, and a voice shouts, “Yo, look, Yahaba must be home!”

Yahaba, heart in his throat, throws himself off Kyoutani and onto the couch beside him, hurriedly straightening out his shirt. Kyoutani looks like he wants to run, and Yahaba doesn’t blame him, but they both know there’s no time, so Kyoutani’s still struggling to cover up as much of his legs as possible with the hoodie when Tanaka waltzes into the room.

“Hey, good to see you, man!” Tanaka says, and extends his hand for a high five.

Yahaba humours him with a tight smile, wincing at the enthusiasm Tanaka puts into it.

Ennoshita is close behind his boyfriend, and takes all of two seconds to read the room and look at Yahaba with apology in his eyes. Tanaka’s prattling on about something – Yahaba’s not paying attention, instead just staring at Ennoshita hoping he’s appropriately conveying his intention of housemate homicide.

"Ryuu, babe, hey,” Ennoshita interrupts, and Tanaka glances at him. “Why don’t we head back out? I just remembered there was something I still needed to do.”

“What is it?” Tanaka asks.

Ennoshita grabs him by the arm. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

“But I wanted to say hi to Yahaba,” Tanaka says, confusion clear in his voice, and if complete and utter cluelessness was an Olympic sport, Yahaba’s pretty sure Tanaka would be winning gold every time.

“You’ve said hi to Yahaba, now let’s go. You can talk later.”

Ennoshita pulls him back towards the door, and Tanaka shrugs helplessly.

“Okay, I guess, I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry. Bye guys!” He cheerfully calls out the last part as Ennoshita drags him out of the room.

A few seconds later, the front door slams shut, and there’s a long moment of silence as Yahaba glances over at Kyoutani, who looks like he wants to melt into the couch and disappear. The mood has shifted, but hasn’t entirely changed – Yahaba knows how much Kyoutani hates the idea of being seen as anything other than strong, aggressive, intimidating – his submissive side is for Yahaba’s eyes only. He’s going to have to be careful to not loose their afternoon entirely to anxiety and embarrassment.

He wastes no time. If Kyoutani’s going to freak out, then he needs someone to rein him in. Yahaba gets to his feet and stands in front of him, startling Kyoutani into looking up at him. Without pause, he leans down, hooks his fingers into the loop of the choker and drags the other forward, making his back arch as he struggles to maintain his balance.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Kentarou?”

Yahaba loves the way Kyoutani drops. He can still see the fight in his eyes, and he’s going to be an asshole, but the stiffness of his spine softens until the hold on the choker is the only thing keeping him from falling back into the couch. His body relaxes, his jaw loose and falling open as he sucks in a breath. His fingers are the only part of him still tense, clenched tight in anticipation and need.

“I… sure,” Kyoutani says quietly, lips twitching into a small smile.

“Good,” Yahaba says, and yanks hard on the collar, jaggedly pulling him to his feet. “I promised you a few things, and I always follow through on my promises, don’t I?”

He drags Kyoutani towards their room, his boyfriend stumbling in his attempt to keep up. He moves quickly, and as soon he’s got the door open he all but throws Kyoutani inside, letting him crash to the floor as he closes and locks the door for good measure.

As Kyoutani figures out his limbs, sprawled across the floor all bare legs and confusion, Yahaba says, “I asked you a question, Kentarou. I thought you were going to be a good boy.”

“I-I…”

“Good boys answer when they’re asked a question. I’ll ask again, and if I don’t get an answer I’ll have to punish you. I always follow through on my promises, _don’t I_?”

Kyoutani, leaning back on his hands with legs bent and invitingly open, nods eagerly with a half-grin. “Always.”

“Do you remember the promises I made?”

Kyoutani pauses, licks his lips. For a moment it seems like he doesn’t remember, which Yahaba isn’t really going to hold against him, but then he swallows and says, “You promised that if I wore the collar, you’d choke me. Until…”

“Until?” Yahaba smirks.

“Until I saw stars.”

“Good boy.”

Yahaba steps forward and drops to his knees between Kyoutani’s legs. Now that his boyfriend isn’t hiding them, he can see all of the beautiful, mottled bruising and marks scattered across the inside of his thighs that he’s been waiting to get his hands – and teeth – on for days.

“I also promised you that I would make it up to you, after I didn’t let you come.”

It’s already getting warm, and he pulls his shirt off. Once it’s out of the way, he grabs Kyoutani by the shoulders and slams him down to the floor – he doesn’t even give him the chance to get his breath back before he claims his mouth in an open, filthy kiss.

Beneath him, Kyoutani gasps, simultaneously trying to suck in air and kiss Yahaba with just as much fervour. He grips Yahaba’s arms with the vice-like strength of a drowning man, and when Yahaba finally pulls back, Kyoutani’s desperately heaving in breaths and clinging to him like he’s afraid he’ll be left there to die.

Yahaba pries his fingers off and shuffles down a little so he’s in a better position to appreciate his boyfriend’s legs. He’s been in love with every bit of Kyoutani for so many years, but certain parts of him are extra-special. His soft, genuine smile, his little nose scrunch when he’s pissed, the wide expanse of his shoulders – and his thighs. If the last thing he was able to do in his life was lavish attention on Kyoutani’s strong, powerful, gorgeous thighs, then he would die a happy, happy man.

He runs his hands over the muscle, digging his thumbs in over the bruising. Kyoutani really had done such a good job, although it’s been a few days now and the colour has started to fade to a slightly less appealing yellow-blue.

_I’ll just have to fix that_.

“Shigeru,” Kyoutani groans almost petulantly, “you said you’d give me bitemarks.”

“I did,” Yahaba muses thoughtfully. “All the bitemarks you wanted.”

“So _bite me_.”

Yahaba presses too hard on a still-dark bruise, eliciting a gasp. “That’s not how you ask, Kentarou. You know better than that. And here I was thinking you weren’t going to be bad for me.”

“I’m not being bad,” Kyoutani mutters, and Yahaba’s head snaps up at the disrespectful tone. “You said –”

“ _I know what I said_.”

Kyoutani stops, stares at him.

“I’ll do exactly what I said I would, but I don’t reward demanding, bratty behaviour. Maybe I need to leave you to cool off for a bit, tie you up so you can’t touch, hmm?”

He waits, gauges Kyoutani’s reaction. The other’s eyes widen and beneath the aching desire, Yahaba thinks he sees panic – genuine panic.

“Shi-Shigeru, no, please…”

“A please is a start. But I think a little time to yourself will do you some good, and maybe you’ll be more appreciative when I come back.”

He moves as if to stand, and watches closely. Kyoutani pushes up on his elbows, and – there it is. The panic overrides everything else in his gaze as he reaches out, desperate. Something isn't right. They’ve played this game many, many times before, and never once has Kyoutani looked at him with such fear.

Kyoutani grabs at Yahaba’s shoulder, the words spilling out, “Wait, no, Shigeru, please, don’t go, don’t leave me, I just…”

“You just _what_?”

Kyoutani tries to slide his hand behind his head and pull him in for a kiss, but Yahaba shakes him off. He’s well aware that Kyoutani could force him into it if he wanted to, but that’s what this whole dynamic is about – Kyoutani is strong, but with a deep, internal desire to be soft and pliant and submissive, to be praised and rewarded.

“ _Please_ ,” Kyoutani whines, and Yahaba can feel the tension rolling through his body.

He pushes Kyoutani down, one hand on his chest and the other against his throat, not enough to choke but rather a comforting pressure, and Kyoutani stills.

“You _just what_ , Kentarou?”

Kyoutani swallows and Yahaba’s chest tightens at the feeling of it under his palm. He takes a steadying breath, and then Kyoutani breaks and knocks all the air back out of him.

“I-I missed you, Shigeru. I’ve been looking at these bruises for days and just thinking about… about what you said, about what you were going to do to me when you came home, and I’ve been _waiting_ , Shigeru, please, I’ve missed you, I want you… I want you on me, and in me, and all over me, and I just… I _need_ you to touch me, please, I _need_ you, _please_ don’t leave.”

Every word is punctuated by desperate little tugs on Yahaba’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer. Yahaba nearly lets it happen, stunned, but catches himself at the last moment and stays firm.

“Oh, baby,” he soothes, rubbing his thumb lightly across his throat. “Good boy, for telling me. You know I’ve been thinking about it too, don’t you? I’ve missed you too. I’ve been looking at those photos you sent me every day, just thinking about all the different ways I was going to destroy you when I got home.”

The vibration from Kyoutani’s moan carries up his arm, and Yahaba continues. “I’m going to give you those bitemarks, and I’m going to give you everything else I said I would. But you know you have to trust me. I’ll do things when I’m ready to do them, and I promise you’re going to feel so good. But only if you trust me.”

Kyoutani stares up at him, eyes a little glassy, and says quietly, “I trust you.”

“Good boy. Now, I want to make sure we’re on the same page - give me your safe words.”

“Green, yellow, red.”

“And where are you right now?”

Without hesitation, Kyoutani replies, “Green.”

“And you’re a good boy, who’ll use those safe words if you need them?”

He gets a hum in response, and Yahaba almost pushes for a verbal answer, but he kind of loves the way he can feel it all the way in his chest. So instead, he presses a kiss to his forehead and says, “I’m going to get up, but I’m not leaving you, okay? I’ll just be a second.”

Kyoutani nods, and even though he whines a little when Yahaba gets to his feet and goes to the bedside table, it’s cut short quickly. When Yahaba resettles himself back between his legs, now armed with lube, his boyfriend is biting his lip to stay quiet.

He rubs his hands along Kyoutani’s thighs, pulls one leg up to rest on his shoulder, and asks gently, “Green?”

“Green.”

“Good,” he replies, and sinks his teeth into his upper thigh.

Kyoutani always reacts so beautifully to every touch Yahaba lays on him. Whether it’s soft fingertips across his skin, gentle lips against his, a bruising grip on his hips, a slap to the face, his tongue on heated flesh, Kyoutani responds in ways that drive Yahaba _insane_. As he bites down, Kyoutani cries out, muscles tensing and his hips kicking up of their own accord. His other leg closes in against Yahaba’s head to hold him in place, which he pushes away so he can move to a different spot.

“ _Ng_ … Shigeru… _ah_ …”

He chews at his fist, and Yahaba shakes his head.

“Hands away from your face, baby. No hiding. I want to hear you.”

Kyoutani whines, but drops his hands to twist them in his hoodie, eyes shut tight.

Yahaba rewards him with a particularly sharp bite near his hip, making him gasp. And then he’s relentless, biting and sucking marks into both thighs and hips without pause. He pushes Kyoutani’s hoodie up to properly expose his stomach so he can dig his nails in and hold him down, his own body lighting up in response to the beautiful sounds his boyfriend makes. He only lets up when Kyoutani’s legs are violently shaking around his shoulders.

“Look at this,” he says, bending Kyoutani’s leg further towards him. “Is this what you wanted?”

Kyoutani is near tears, and it takes him a moment to force his eyes to open, to see the utter mess Yahaba has made of his thighs; shiny with spit, red and raw and marked. But when he sees it, he bobs his head in an approximation of a nod.

“You’re being such a good boy for me,” Yahaba says, and as he talks, he slips his fingers under the waistband of Kyoutani’s underwear and tugs it down and off. “You wanted something, didn’t you? A few things. You wanted me _on you_ …” He leans over, bracketing Kyoutani’s head with his hands and smiling. “You wanted me _all over you_ …” He kisses him, gentle and easy, before kissing away his leaking tears. “What else was it that you wanted?”

Kyoutani tries to stumble through an answer as Yahaba leans back again and grabs the lube. He keeps his hands low so Kyoutani can’t see, and when he can’t give a coherent answer, Yahaba presses a finger in without warning.

“Oh, that’s right,” he says as Kyoutani’s eyes widen and his back arches off the floor. “You wanted me _in_ you.”

Kyoutani’s soft, surprised little _ahh_ ignites something in Yahaba, but he forces himself to retain his composure. He has so, so much more planned and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Talk to me, baby, I want to hear you.”

“ _Fuck_ , yes, Shigeru, _more_ …” Kyoutani moans, wriggling his hips.

Yahaba puts a stop to that movement immediately, pressing down and rubbing circles against his hip with his thumb whilst he teases a second finger.

“Look at you,” Yahaba coos as he pushes it in, knowing Kyoutani loves the burn of too much, too fast. “All you’ve wanted is me inside you and now that I am, it’s not enough. Am I not enough for you, Kentarou? Do you need someone else to satisfy you?”

He chuckles as Kyoutani’s fearful gaze snaps to him, as he stammers and stumbles over a response.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’m just teasing you, baby. No one else will ever see you like this, you’re so beautiful just for me, I’m so lucky. I can’t believe I’m so lucky.”

As he stretches him open, he talks quietly; about how much he’s missed him, about how gorgeous he looks all splayed out on the floor and desperate, about how much he loves the pretty way Kyoutani’s breath hitches when he touches that spot deep inside him. He alternates his free hand between holding Kyoutani’s hips down and running his fingers along his thigh, pressing in on the bruises and watching his boyfriend fall apart. It’s when he’s got four fingers in, moving slowly, and Kyoutani’s moans are choked and his eyes full of tears that Yahaba says, “I’d bet you’d like to come, wouldn’t you?”

As he tries to answer, Yahaba smirks and shifts his fingers. This time he’s more purposeful, pressing firmly where he’s been teasing, and Kyoutani’s breath doesn’t just hitch; he gasps, and his back arches as he squirms.

“Well? I want an answer, Kentarou.”

“ _Ah – fuck_ … y-yes…”

“I should make you ask me nicely,” Yahaba muses, twisting his fingers idly and wringing another soft cry from his boyfriend. He moves, supporting himself on one hand so he can lean over Kyoutani and kiss him, say against his lips, “But I promised you I’d make it up to you, and you so desperately want to come, don’t you?”

“Shi-Shigeru…”

“You can come, baby, you’ve been such a good boy.”

It takes another few nudges, but then Kyoutani grabs hold of him, fingers tight around the back of his neck and upper arm, and moans into Yahaba’s mouth as he comes, hips stuttering. Yahaba kisses him through, at the corner of his mouth and along his jaw. Slowly he removes his fingers and braces himself properly over Kyoutani, lax and open beneath him.

“I love you so much, baby, you were so good, I didn’t even need to touch you. You trusted me and it felt good, didn’t it?” he says.

Kyoutani blinks slowly. “Y-Yeah,” he says, voice a little thick. “I…”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted…” He shakes his head. “S’okay…”

Yahaba tilts his head. “What did you want, baby? Talk to me.”

He tries for a coherent sentence, but all he manages is, “You… fuck me…” before he runs a hand up through Yahaba’s hair and sloppily pulls him in for a kiss.

For a few seconds, Yahaba allows it, and then he pulls away and with a laugh, cups Kyoutani’s jaw with one hand.

“Oh, baby, you think we’re done?”

It takes a moment for it to penetrate Kyoutani’s brain, but when it does, his glazed eyes roll back in his head and groans, “ _Fuck_.”

“That? That was making it up to you. I still have other promises to fulfil, remember? Like making you see stars.”

He presses a firm hand to the other’s throat, and Kyoutani makes a pleased little noise.

“And I also distinctly remember telling you that I was going to fuck you so well you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

“ _Shigeru_ …”

“Come on, baby.” Yahaba pulls back to rest on his knees and survey the results of his work – Kyoutani’s thighs, even now still trembling, covered in bites and marks that are going to look even better tomorrow; his dick laying limp against his stomach; the hoodie, now splattered with come. “I kind of want to keep you in the hoodie, it makes you look even more filthy. But my plans involve it coming off, so let’s go.”

Kyoutani struggles to push himself up on his hands, and Yahaba reaches out to help him. He’s still boneless enough for him to have to rest against Yahaba’s chest while he’s manoeuvred out of the last of his clothes, and he hums contentedly when Yahaba rubs a hand across his bare back.

“I need you to get up, baby. I can’t move you by myself, so you have to help, okay? Be a good boy for me.”

Still blissed out and eager to please, Kyoutani complies, managing to get his legs underneath him to a point where Yahaba can haul him up. Together, they stagger over to the bed and Yahaba lays him down on his back as carefully as he can.

He’s been forcing himself to ignore his own need up until now, intent on focusing purely on his boyfriend. But now that plan is complete, and Yahaba shucks off his pants and underwear to alleviate what’s been a growing and incredibly uncomfortable pressure ever since he got home. He retrieves the lube from the floor and rummages through the second drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a pair of wide cuffs and a leash, both made of beautiful black leather with silver accents to match the collar around Kyoutani’s neck. He leaves the leash on the bedside table, tosses the lube on the bed, and looks down at his boyfriend.

“You still with me, baby?”

Kyoutani blinks and smiles, a little lopsided. Yahaba can’t help but smile in return.

“Arms up, I’m going to cuff you now.”

Kyoutani frowns briefly, but lifts his arms above his head for Yahaba to lock the cuffs around, and then to the head of the bed. He checks the give and when he’s satisfied, grabs one more thing from the drawer before finally climbing onto the bed and settling between the other’s legs.

“Everything feel okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Colour?”

There’s a pause, and then Kyoutani replies, “Green.”

“Are you sure?”

“Green.”

Yahaba smiles. “Okay.”

He holds up the last object he retrieved and smirks at the wide-eyed look he gets in return.

“Not yet,” Kyoutani whines.

Yahaba thwacks him on the chest with the vibrator. “I think now is the perfect time. You were bitching that my fingers weren’t enough, so you should be pleased.”

He grabs the lube and slicks up the vibrator. Kyoutani starts to grumble, but Yahaba maintains steady eye contact with him as he pushes it in just a little too fast to be comfortable. Halfway through complaining, Kyoutani gasps and his body tenses, arching stiffly.

“You were saying?”

Kyoutani doesn’t answer him, and Yahaba presses sharply on a bruise on his thigh near where it meets his hip, eliciting a yelp.

“I’ve indulged you, Kentarou, and you still won’t even answer my questions. _You were saying_?”

“I-It’s too much,” Kyoutani says, his voice strained.

Yahaba tilts his head. “Is it? Because I don’t think it is. I think you like this, and I think you want more.”

He starts to slide the vibrator out before roughly thrusting it back in, and Kyoutani exhales a sharp little _ahh_. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t give Kyoutani more than a few seconds between each thrust, until his boyfriend’s eyes start to roll back a little, and his gasps and moans become softer and more relaxed. He stops, leaning over Kyoutani on his hands and knees to kiss him softly in a stark contrast. Kyoutani pushes his chest up to meet him, pulling hard against the cuffs.

Yahaba smiles against his lips and reaches back, feeling for the controls at the base of the vibrator. The effect of turning on the lowest setting is immediate – Kyoutani jumps, mouth falling open against Yahaba’s with a startled sound. Kyoutani always responds so beautifully for him, but Yahaba more than adores the way everything is amplified when he’s extra sensitive and still riding a high. His boyfriend squirms, the cuffs tight against his wrists with the pressure, hips moving jaggedly as he tries to both chase the feeling and pull away from it.

Yahaba tips his head down to mouth at the collar snug against Kyoutani’s throat. Yahaba’s bought so many for him – thick, practical ones; dog collars and tags; spiked chokers; choke chains; pretty little delicate things Kyoutani swore he’d never wear. But this one, plain and simple, is his favourite. There’s a beauty in its simplicity, in the way the silver glints against Kyoutani’s skin. He bites, scraping his teeth against his throat, before moving down to nip along his collarbone.

“Sh-Shigeru…”

“Mmm?” Yahaba murmurs, running his hands down the other’s sides.

“I-It… It’s so much…”

“If you can still talk,” he says, scratching along his hip, “then it’s not enough.”

Kyoutani moans, and Yahaba sinks his teeth into his pectoral. He leaves a few more rings of red across his chest, Kyoutani jerking underneath him with each one, before leaning back on his knees to admire his progress. The marks on his hips are the prettiest, the raised welts a perfect frame for his hard, still-untouched dick.

“I know you don’t like other people looking at all these marks, baby, but I _love_ it. People see them and they know you belong to someone, that someone _owns_ you.”

He clicks the vibrator up another level. Kyoutani cries out, clamping his legs around Yahaba.

“You’re mine, Kentarou, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. They want you all for themselves, but they see all these bites, these bruises, these marks and scratches, and they know someone else already has you.”

He moves the vibrator slowly, painfully so, until Kyoutani’s tearing up again. As he does, he wraps a hand around his own dick with a pent-up groan.

“They think about you, I know they do. They think about what it would be like to make you submit, make you beg. I bet they want to see you cry while they fuck your mouth, choke you with their cock. They want to see you on your knees with their come all over your face. They want to force you down, put bruises on your hips, fuck you ‘til you break. That’s what they want, baby, when they see how you take it, they want you.”

Kyoutani sobs, tries to speak but it’s unintelligible. Yahaba skips a few levels on the vibrator, taking it straight to the max, and Kyoutani sobs again, yanks hard on the cuffs. Yahaba leans forward a little and swipes his thumb over Kyoutani’s bottom lip. Without warning, he shoves three fingers into his mouth. Kyoutani gags at the surprise, but it’s only a moment before he’s sloppily trying to suck on them, gaze unfocused, and Yahaba knows he’s all but gone, spaced out and entirely submissive.

“But you’re _mine_. They can think about you all they want, but they know they can’t have you, they can’t touch you. They can fantasize about all the filthy things they want to do to you, but the only person who gets to touch you is _me_.”

The more he talks, the more he realises he needs to be in Kyoutani _now_. He’s waited so long and yes, they have all the time in the world now that he’s home, but when Kyoutani chokes on his fingers and tries to drag him in with knees tight against his waist, it doesn’t feel like it.

Kyoutani whines when he takes his fingers from his mouth, but Yahaba doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, with a grunt of effort, he flips Kyoutani onto his stomach. He twists the collar until the silver loop is at the back of his neck, and then grabs the leash and hooks it on. The leather feels good wrapped around his palm, and even better when he pulls harshly and jerks Kyoutani’s head back.

“I’m going to fuck you now, baby. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Kyoutani tries to nod, but the leash is taut and there’s not an ounce of give. Yahaba allows him some slack to heave in a breath, but then pulls it tight again as he leans down.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you for _days_ , about how _good_ you always feel on my cock,” he growls in his ear. “Are you going to be good for me, take me like a good boy?”

He loosens his hold to let Kyoutani answer, and what he gets is a choked sob and frantic nodding. Yahaba presses a kiss just under his ear before moving back. He yanks on the leash, keeping Kyoutani’s head uncomfortably pulled back as he discards the vibrator over the side of the bed and grabs the lube. He moves fast to prepare himself but despite that, when he releases the chokehold again, Kyoutani is struggling to breathe.

He lifts the other’s hips from thrusting against the sheets and props him on his knees, his chest and the side of his face jammed into the bed. He runs one hand over Kyoutani’s back before gripping his hips tight enough to bruise and –

Kyoutani coughs, “Yellow!”

_Fuck_

Immediately, Yahaba gets Kyoutani onto his side, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. He cups his boyfriend’s face and asks, “What’s wrong, baby? Do you want to stop?”

Kyoutani sucks in a strangled breath. Yahaba takes off the collar – Kyoutani whines – and rubs the back of his neck, grounding him as he slowly calms down. Eventually, when his chest isn’t heaving anymore, Kyoutani buries his face in his arm and mumbles something almost inaudible.

“Kentarou, look at me when you’re talking, I can’t hear you otherwise,” Yahaba says firmly.

Kyoutani reacts to the tone of his voice and turns his face to him. He fights to maintain eye contact, looking away and then back constantly out of fear of punishment. Yahaba rubs his thumb across his cheek soothingly.

“Please don’t stop…” Kyoutani begs hoarsely. “Please…”

“I’ll keep going when you tell me why you used your safe word.”

“I just… I-I don’t…” he trails off, jaw clenched.

“You’re doing well, baby,” Yahaba encourages when Kyoutani doesn’t continue. There had been a few times in the past where Kyoutani had called out a safe word, and each time he’d struggled to actually admit what was wrong. Yahaba knows he just has to be patient and he’ll draw the truth out eventually.

Kyoutani stammers for a few moments, then finally, slowly confesses, “I don’t… want you to… f-fuck me like that…”

“Good boy,” Yahaba praises. “What do you want?”

Still teary, Kyoutani starts to shudder and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s told Yahaba once, what this feels like – anxiety turning his brain inside out at the thought of ruining the scene, of not getting what he needs, as his body pulses with adrenaline and arousal. Yahaba presses a kiss to his forehead and says, in a voice more solid than he actually feels, “Kentarou, you need to tell me what you want. You’ve been such a good boy and I want to give you what you want.”

Kyoutani tries again to speak, but this time he can’t manage more than, “…back?”

“You want to be on your back?”

Kyoutani nods, relief flooding his face. “A-and… cuffs?”

“You don’t want them on anymore?”

He shakes his head and mumbles, “…touch you…”

Yahaba tips his head up with a finger under his chin and smiles. “Of course, baby, you can touch me.”

He keeps his movements measured and relaxed as he searches the drawer for the key, and then unlocks the cuffs. He drops them back in the drawer along with the leash, still attached to the collar, before rolling Kyoutani onto his back and kneeling between his legs.

“Better?”

He gets a nod and a soft-eyed Kyoutani reaching for him. Yahaba takes his hands and asks, “Colour?”

“Green.”

Yahaba pins Kyoutani’s hands to the bed, leaning over him with a smile. “Definitely green?”

Another nod. Yahaba releases him, lets him wrap his arms around his shoulders. Kyoutani captures his lips in a slow kiss. As he does, Yahaba presses into him just as slowly, and Kyoutani exhales shakily into his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me,” Yahaba murmurs, trembling with the relief of finally, _finally_ getting what he’d been waiting so long for.

As he bottoms out, Kyoutani presses his shaking thighs against Yahaba’s waist, too exhausted and weak to do much more. Yahaba pauses for a moment, indulging himself in the feeling of being inside Kyoutani, of being clung to and messily kissed. He kisses back just as messily, thrusts once and revels in the soft little cry he gets.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

“Shigeru…” His voice pitches high, his hips rocking against Yahaba’s.

Yahaba fucks into him, exchanging breaths and half-focused kisses, wincing as Kyoutani’s nails score his back. Everything’s hot and wet and sloppy and while it’s not what he’d planned, Yahaba _loves_ it. Loves it because Kyoutani loves it, because he loves Kyoutani. He reaches down to take hold of his boyfriend’s neglected dick and Kyoutani gasps.

“You can come now, okay?” Yahaba mumbles as he twists his wrist, flicks his thumb. “My good boy, you can come. Look at you, you take me so well, Kentarou, my good boy, made for me to fuck you, aren’t you? Mine, baby, only for me.”

Kyoutani’s hips roll up into his grasp and he comes with a broken, raspy moan. Yahaba nuzzles along the other’s jaw, teeth scraping as he presses in a little harder with each thrust. He’s not as close but he needs to be, because it’s only a matter of time before Kyoutani is too sensitive to continue and he’s going to have to pull out. The desire - the _need_ – to come in Kyoutani is near manic, and he grips the other’s waist tightly.

Kyoutani winces. Yahaba grits his teeth and starts to pull out, only to be stopped by legs around his hips.

“Baby, let me…”

“No,” Kyoutani says stubbornly, taking Yahaba’s head in his hands. “In – _ah_ – in me.”

“Kent-”

“Green!” Kyoutani forces Yahaba down for a kiss, says tearily against his lips, “F-Fuck me, please…”

He doesn’t want to give in, but there’s no way he can hold out, not against a trembling lip and dug-in nails and tongue and teeth against his. Yahaba fucks him, kisses him, holds him, and, finally, comes with a groan and Kyoutani’s hands in his hair.

Yahaba collapses on top of him, but Kyoutani doesn’t seem to mind. They lay there for a few minutes, both breathing heavily in the silence. Neither of them speak, but Kyoutani keeps an arm around Yahaba, and Yahaba presses tiny, tired kisses to Kyoutani’s neck.

Eventually, Yahaba slides off onto his side and says, “Are you okay?”

Kyoutani is slow to respond, hazy and exhausted, but nods. Yahaba smiles.

“You were such a good boy, I’m so proud of you.”

Kyoutani makes a pleased little sound and Yahaba chuckles. He brushes his hand over the other’s face, tracing his cheekbone.

“You did so well, telling me everything that you needed and trusting me to take care of you. I love you.”

It takes a lot of effort, but Kyoutani rolls onto his side to face Yahaba. He attempts to nuzzle up against him, pushing his face against Yahaba’s as he mumbles, “Love you too.”

Yahaba heart swells, so much his chest hurts. Kyoutani rarely said ‘I love you’ – at least, not out loud. He said it in other ways, and in those ways he said it all the time, but there was something especially intimate to Yahaba about the phrase itself. Yahaba can’t stop himself – doesn’t want to – and kisses him, long and languid and relaxed. When they stop for air, Kyoutani’s even hazier, eyes glazed over.

“I’m going to go get some stuff to clean up, okay? Don’t move,” Yahaba says.

His body protests the movement but he manages to get up, even though Kyoutani tries to hang onto his wrist. It’s only after a promise that he’ll be back quickly that he reluctantly lets go, and Yahaba makes his way towards the bathroom on shaky legs.

He grabs a washcloth, wetting it in the sink before dealing with the various areas of his body covered in come and lube. As he rinses it out, he checks out his back in the mirror – there are some sizable scratches across his shoulders and down to his mid-back, and he feels a little thrill of happiness at the idea that he’s going to be feeling and seeing them for a few days.

Washcloth in hand, he makes a quick pitstop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. He turns, ready to head back to the bedroom, when he comes face to face with Tanaka.

He freezes. Tanaka freezes. For a few seconds they stand there, staring at each other. And then Tanaka’s gaze starts to drift downwards, and Yahaba remembers he didn’t put any clothes on before leaving the bedroom because _no one was home_ , and hurriedly slaps the washcloth over his crotch.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps.

Tanaka blinks. “I mean, I live here.”

Yahaba starts to bite out a reply, but he’s interrupted by another voice.

“Ryuu, what are you…”

Ennoshita pokes his head into the kitchen. As soon as he does, he rolls his eyes and scrubs a hand over his face.

“I _told_ you we needed to stay out longer but no, you refused to listen to me,” he huffs.

“You never said _why_ we needed to stay out longer,” Tanaka replies with a huff. “You could have just said they were having sex.”

“How was it not obvious?” Yahaba asks incredulously. “I’ve been away, and Kyoutani was fucking half-naked when you guys came home before.”

Tanaka frowns. “He was?”

Ennoshita snorts behind his hand, and Yahaba shakes his head.

“Sometimes I wonder how you manage to survive,” he says as he nudges past Tanaka to leave the kitchen.

Ennoshita steps aside for him, mouthing an apology, but Yahaba waves it off. As he walks away, Tanaka calls, “Damn, I thought you liked fucking him up, but he got you good.”

Yahaba realises he’s looking at the scratches on his back, and he glances over his shoulder with a smirk.

“You should see the other guy.”

Tanaka whistles, and Ennoshita laughs. Yahaba leaves them to it and returns to the bedroom, making sure to both close and lock the door behind him.

Kyoutani hasn’t moved, and he blinks drowsily as Yahaba sits down next to him. Yahaba puts the water bottle on bedside table and carefully, with whispered warning, positions Kyoutani on his back.

“Still feeling okay?” Yahaba asks as he begins to gently clean up the mess of come and lube on Kyoutani’s stomach and legs.

“Mmm… sleepy.”

“I’m sure,” Yahaba smiles.

He’s extra-careful when it comes to the scratches and bruises he’s left, but Kyoutani still tenses up and winces when he runs the cloth over some of the nastier injuries. Every time, Yahaba soothes him with a quiet “good boy” or “almost done, baby”. When he’s finished, Yahaba picks up the water bottle and says, “Sit up for me, I need you to drink some of this.”

With help, Kyoutani manages to get to a sitting position and down some of the water. It’s a slightly messy job with Kyoutani so uncoordinated, but they get through it and then, once he’s lying back down, Yahaba leaves him to rest while he cleans up the remainder of the mess left behind. Eventually he’s able to get everything cleaned and put away in its proper place, and then it’s just a matter of extracting the blanket from underneath Kyoutani and getting the pair of them into bed.

He doesn’t even have the chance to settle before Kyoutani’s curling up beside him, throwing an arm over his stomach. Yahaba chuckles. After a nap, he’ll be back to his miserable, cranky boyfriend, but Yahaba’s okay with that – it’s what he fell in love with, after all.

He rests his cheek on top of Kyoutani’s head and says, “I love you.”

“Whatever, dumbass.”

Maybe sooner than he thought.


End file.
